


Feeling Faint

by letsdancetojoydivision



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsdancetojoydivision/pseuds/letsdancetojoydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus doesn't like Alec's sweaters. Alec likes Alec's sweaters. Magnus is taking Alec to go get new clothes or else he's snapping Alec out of his old ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the black sweater

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks, so this is a repost of a story I wrote many a year ago, so if it sounds familiar, you'll probably recognise me as Bulls in Brooklyn from ff. I have another two Mortal Instruments stories, one Malec (What Alec Forgot), and the other solely based on Magnus (The Devil Child), both on fanfiction.net, one I'm just not very proud of any more, despite its popularity, and the other incomplete without any current plans to finish it. You're very welcome to take a look and leave a review, and if there's interest, I will put them up on here.  
> Hope you enjoy this fluffy nonsense

Magnus was not as happy to see me as I had hoped. He was half covering his eyes with one hand, his other outstretched in a dramatic pose reminiscent of someone protecting their eyes from the sun.

"Alec, honey, you're hurting my eyes! Too much black and the lack of fashion sense, oh I feel faint!" He staggered backwards, landing on his bright pink coach with a thump.

"Ha-de-freaking-ha." I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes while Magnus cackled, visibly shaking with laughter.

"Your terrible, or should I say, lack of, fashion sense is nothing to laugh at." He reprimanded, wagging a mock-stern finger at me, the effect completely ruined by his continued snickering.

"I'm surprised you heard me over your  _giggling_."I said mock-offended, grinning despite myself. "Come on! This sweater isn't even that bad! It's still  _black_! And, well, it hasn't got  _too_  many holes..." I trailed off, plucking at my jumper. Perhaps it was a  _little_  careworn.

Magnus let out a loud, over-dramatic sigh. "You're wearing a t-shirt under that right?"

I nodded.

"What colour...Oh need I ask? It's black, right?"

Again, I nodded, this time a little sheepishly.

He gave me a pleading look. "It's pretty warm outside, and warmer in here. Would you take the sweater off? Please?"

I raised my eyebrow. "You're going to snap it off me if I refuse, right?"

He shrugged, "Well, yes, most likely, but this way involves me watching you remove clothing, which is a lot more fun than me just snapping it off."

I flushed, and hid a slightly giddy smile. I found myself surprised with the reactions Magnus inspired in myself sometimes. And not in the crude physical ways that Jace had told me about in his excruciatingly detailed "Birds and the Bees" speech he'd decided to inflict on me one day. Well, not  _always_ , anyway. But that was  _completely_ unrelated.

I blushed a bit, and feeling ridiculous, gripped the bottom of my fraying sweater and started lifting. Only for Magnus to start humming stripper music. I dropped my jumper immediately, crossing my arms and looking away in chagrin.

"Oh Alec, I'm sorry darling, that was mean." His words were contrite, but he looked anything but. He covered a smirk remarkably well, and probably would have gotten away with it if he'd been with anyone who didn't know his expressions as well as I did. Unfortunately for him, I knew his "I'm laughing at you on the inside" expression very well; I see it fairly often in the company we keep.

"Magnus." I sighed, feeling my face slip into something dangerously close to a pout.

His face straightened out, and he said, "I really am sorry Alec, it wasn't nice. It was very, _very_  nice." he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. He snorted once, then said seriously, "All playing aside, I'm sorry for embarrassing you. Honestly, I'm still pretty impressed you went along with it."

I smiled, then grimaced down at my sweater. "It really is bad, isn't it?" I asked sheepishly.

"Truer words have never been spoken."

I shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "They're comfortable."  _And invisible,_  I silently added. I suppose I should get rid of them. Invisibility isn't really an option where Magnus is concerned.

Who had an oddly calculating look on his face, that I _really_  didn't like the look of. It spelled the end of the sweaters.

"How about," he began, grinning at my tension, "you keep the sweater, but I take you shopping. No glitter, nothing ostentatious!" he said quickly, his hands lifting up to quell my protests. "Geez, you'd think I was offering to give you a makeover or something." He muttered. "Although..." he said, looking appraisingly at my hair.

"No." I said firmly.

"You're no fun." He grumbled, then brightened. "So, shopping?" His happy face was impossible to disappoint.

I grimaced, knowing I was going to regret this. "Okay. But!" I said as Magnus jumped up excitedly, "I have a couple of ground rules."

Magnus groaned and flopped back down onto the sofa. He sighed, muttered, "If you must..." and his eyes glazed over. I could tell he was already busy compiling potential outfits in his head.

"One," I said, holding up one finger for emphasis, "No glitter. Or sequins. Or studs. Or those little diamond-y things either."

"Diamontes," he muttered absent-mindedly.

"Two," I said, holding up a second finger, hoping I was covering all my bases. "Nothing too  _bright_ , okay? No crazy patterns, or anything that would be out of place anywhere but at one of your parties. Actually, nothing that  _would_ fit in at one of your parties."

He grinned, "You know, it would be really nice if you came to some more of them," he wheedled. Noting my expression, he gestured for me to continue, and said to himself, "We'll talk about it later."

I rolled my eyes and continued, "Three." I paused a little, knowing this would be tough to sell. "Nothing designer."

"What?" Magnus sat up straight. "No way! The other two I can deal with, but nothing designer? I thought these rules were going to be reasonable!"

"Magnus! Be practical! I go out and fight demons for a living! Clothes get torn, sliced, burned, bled and spat on, covered in dirt, and on some occasions, have food dropped on them." Admittedly, the last one was less demon-related and more Jace-related. Particularly when Isy's cooking; according to Jace, throwing her food is far more fun and survivable than eating it, which prompted Isy to throw one of her (rock solid) attempts at a dumpling at Jace's face. He'd had a black eye for about a week. "I can't be worrying about ruining expensive clothes!"

"But! But..." Magnus slumped, looking defeated.

Which was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I told him as such.

He laughed, "Hell, I'm just glad I can  _finally_  get rid of those godforsaken sweaters."

"I'm still suspicious of you. Hang on, wait, did you just say...?" I trailed off, cursing myself. Way to bring up the fact that yes, your boyfriend is indeed half demon and therefore technically shouldn't be able to say "God". Good going Lightwood.

Magnus snorted. "What, 'God'? I'm no newbie, it gets easier with the years." His expression turned teasing, "And don't you try and change the subject; I think we  _all_  know the important thing right now is your lack of fashion sense."

I snapped my fingers, looking disappointed. "You got me."

Magnus smiled a slow, sly grin. "We'll soon fix that my dear. Off we go!"

"Hang on!" I started, panicked. "We're not going now, are we?"

"No time like the present!" Magnus said brightly. His expression turned slightly sour. "Besides, the longer we wait, the longer you have to talk yourself out of it. You're not nearly so obliging!" He beamed. "Come dear Alec, let me introduce you to the world of fashion!"


	2. the pink couch

The world of fashion was more... _complimentary_  than I had expected. And much, much more complicated.

The assistants were all eager to help, suggesting clothes and telling me which colours would make my eyes "pop" or whatever the hell that meant, while Magnus nodded sagely, occasionally adding some comment or suggestion of his own.

There was a flurry of fitting rooms and piles of clothing being flung over the doors of them. Despite my rule against overly bright clothes, I saw more colours than I had known existed before now; although blue seemed to be a common feature (that was the one that made my eyes pop. Seriously, what does that even _mean_? Are my eyeballs going to explode when I wear this colour? Maybe even Shadowhunter abilities aren't able to protect me from the dangers of the fashion world, they haven't managed to yet.)

I eventually pleaded exhaustion, having lasted as long as I could, so Magnus and I went to go get something to eat. We ended up in a little cafe` in the general vicinity of the food court. I would have been happy with a burger, but Magnus wouldn't hear of it, asking with a semi-horrified expression, "Do you know how unhygienic those places are? Not to mention the ridiculous amount of calories..."  
  
I wondered about him sometimes.

I ended up getting a coffee and a much less fatty and much less tasty sandwich. Magnus smiled at me over his mug, his painted nails tapping rhythmically against the sides.

"You do realise this is all a formality right? I'm just going to snap most of this stuff home with us."

I rolled my eyes. "I kind of figured that. Don't you get a ridiculously large salary as Head Warlock?"

Magnus snorted. "From who? The Clave? Not freaking likely." He sighed, "No my dear, the only perk of being Head Warlock is the prestige, and of course, the ability to work _oh_ so closely with the Nephilim." He gave me a lecherous wink, raising his one eyebrow flirtatiously. It was half hot, half vaudeville villain and entirely ridiculous.

I rolled my eyes again, and said, "I've pretty much become the Institute's liason with warlocks now, through you." I swallowed, trying to be brave, and flushing slightly, I tried in my smoothest tone, "the closeness is appreciated on both sides."

Trying to be really bold, I put my hand on Magnus' leg under the table.

Magnus looked at me with something akin to pride. "I've done it. I've taken this poor prudish Shadowhunter, and corrupted him into a smooth talking flirt."

I yanked my hand away as he openly laughed at my indignation. He pouted at me pitifully, staring at my hand, to his leg, and back to my hand again.

"You're pathetic." I smiled, putting my hand back on his leg, while he preened.

"Ah, but my dear Alec, I got what I wanted, didn't I?" he said smugly.

I laughed, I couldn't help it.

"I love you Magnus," I said airily, still chuckling.

Magnus smiled the little pleased grin he always did when I said those words, no matter the context. He looked close to blushing, almost shy, it was... oh by the Angel, I've been spending too much time with him, God forgive me, but  _cute_.

And it gave me a little thrill every time it happened, that by saying three little words, I could reduce the ( _my_ ) warlock - who boldly wore such outfits, and was so unashamedly himself - to (as he'd once described Jace about Clary) "a blushing, lovestruck sap with hearts for eyes".

"Love you too Alec." he said quietly, still with his little smile.

And as soon as he said it, I knew that my face matched his.

 

oOoOoOoOo

 

We  _finally_  got back home - Magnus' apartment, I mentally corrected - and I collapsed onto the obnoxiously pink sofa.

Magnus laughed at me, and said wryly, "It's like a study in negative space."

I raised my eyebrow.

"You know, 'cause you're wearing black and it contrasts with the... oh never mind." Magnus trailed off, flapping his hand in the universal gesture of "I give up on trying to explain arty things to clueless boyfriend". Hmm, perhaps not an entirely universal gesture.

He flopped down next to me, resting his head on my shoulder. He turned to face me, his hair tickling my face and neck as he did so, giving me goosebumps.

"So, did you like the shopping trip?" he asked.

"Umm. Sure." I said uncertainly.

He slapped my chest. "Be nice, I put in a lot of effort for you today! I picked out very nice, comfortable clothes; I endured the groups of giggling 16 year old girls perving on you; and I watched you get undressed  _multiple_  times without taking advantage of the situation! Do you know how much willpower that takes? Plus, I still need to snap everything from the stores back here, in the right size, style and colour." He ended with a pout.

"Life is difficult for you, isn't it?" I teased.

"It really is." He said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Wait, what did you mean before?" I asked. "What giggling 16 year olds?"

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Sweetie, this sort of stuff is why you didn't have your first kiss or get any action until you were 18."

"Hey!" I said, almost offended.

He patted me sympathetically on my other shoulder. "It's okay sweetie, it doesn't matter that you're completely unobservant and clueless; you have me now!" He said with his biggest angelic grin.

"Still trying to work out if that's a good thing or not." I grumbled.

"Ouch!" Magnus leaned up and off me, "I'm hurt my love! How can you say such cruel things?"

I smiled. "'Cause you'll forgive me because you  _loooove_  me." I cooed, laughing.

Magnus snorted, and leaned back down on me, squirming until he got comfortable again, then crossing his arm over me, his hand grazing slowly up and down my left side, sending shivers up my spine.

"I do, though." Magnus said quietly. "I really do."

I supressed a slightly giddy smile, and sighed, wrapping my arm around Magnus' shoulders, cradling him closer to me.

He let out a contented smile, kissing me on the neck, and then chuckled.

"Sorry," he muttered in response to my silent query, "I just pictured you doing the classic, 'Oh, I'm yawning, but hey since I'm yawning, I may as well put my arm around your shoulders, and hey, now that my hand's around your shoulders, how about we fuck?' manouevre. Funny image"

I coughed. "I don't really remember that last bit being part of it."

Magnus smiled against my neck. "First kiss at 18 remember?"

"You know you've just ruined any movie where they use that fake-yawning thing for me now, right?"

Magnus looked up at me. "Alec, any movie that uses that as a viable option was already ruined."

I shrugged. "True."

I yawned.

Magnus laughed, "Hey! You're supposed to do that beforehand!"

I groaned. "Wow, Magnus, you're so funny." I said sarcastically.

"I know, right?" he replied. He giggled again, and then said to himself, "I'm hilarious."

I patted him patronisingly on the head. "Sure you are."

"Yup" he said quietly, before he snuggled somehow closer to me (snuggled? I use words like snuggled now? I really am spending too much time with him). We lay for a while longer, before Magnus said, softly "Mmm, I'm tired."

I sighed in agreement. It was becoming a bit of a struggle to keep my eyes open now. "Should probably go upstairs or something."

"Yeah..." Magnus slurred. He drowsily kissed me on the neck again, before resting his head back onto my shoulder. Clearly, we weren't going anywhere. I hadn't much liked the idea anyway.

We both drifted off to sleep together, lying in each others arms, on his truly  _hideous_  couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey kids, hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> If you like, you can follow me on tumblr, as wingardiumlevi-no-sa. I post a lot of Doctor Who and Teen Wolf and Supernatural and Sherlock and really rather a lot of things

**Author's Note:**

> Take a minute to let me know what you think :)


End file.
